


Learning To See

by flawedamythyst



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-08-06
Updated: 2007-08-06
Packaged: 2018-10-16 10:09:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10569147
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flawedamythyst/pseuds/flawedamythyst
Summary: Dean always seems to be watching Sam now.





	

Dean's eyes were always on him. He'd thought that Dean watched him a lot before; his gaze naturally seeming to come to rest on Sam when his mind wandered, but now they were fucking, he rarely seemed to ever look away. It was almost as if he was worried that if he did, Sam would disappear.

However, if Sam looked at Dean for too long in return, watching the way his shoulders flexed under his shirt, or fixating on his lips as he spoke and remembering how they looked when they were wrapped around his cock, if he let just a fraction of the heat he felt show in his eyes, Dean would frown and glance around anxiously as if expecting passers-by to know what Sam was thinking.

"Dude, don't," he'd say, nervously. Sam usually clenched his jaw and looked away, wondering why it was ok for Dean to constantly look at Sam as if he wanted to consume all of him, but Sam wasn't allowed to do the same.

This time, though, Sam just grinned and stared harder, thinking of how Dean's mouth fell open when Sam slid inside him, or how he bit down on his lower lip when he was getting close to the edge. Dean shifted uncomfortably and glanced over his shoulder, where the waitress of the small diner was talking to the cook.

"No one cares," said Sam. He move his foot forward slightly to press against Dean's. "No one here cares that you spent last night fucking me so hard that I can still feel it, or that under your shirt you've got a hickey that I put there."

Dean gritted his teeth. "Dude, shut up!" he hissed.

"Why?" said Sam, then leant forward and brought his foot up to touch Dean's shin, rubbing his ankle up and down. Dean shifted his leg away, but the booth was small enough that Sam was still able to easily reach it.

"It's not right," Dean said, sounding a little desperate.

Sam laughed and reached across to take Dean's hand. Dean tried to pull it away, but Sam was too quick, holding it with both of his and stroking his thumb across the palm. Dean shivered. "It was right last night," he said. "What's changed? This isn't Tennessee, we're not going to get lynched." Dean huffed a breath and said nothing, still glancing around nervously. "Besides," added Sam, "The way you always look at me, everyone we meet has already guessed within two minutes."

Dean did look at him then, seemingly a little blindsided that Sam had noticed, then he shrugged one shoulder. "Don't know what you're talking about," he bluffed.

Sam rolled his eyes and let go of Dean's hand. "I don't mind," he said. "I like it." It was his turn to glance away for a moment, then he admitted, "Makes me feel like you aren't getting bored of this."

Dean stared down at his hand for a moment, then suddenly reached out and took Sam's. Sam looked at him with surprise, but Dean was still looking at their hands, as if afraid to look up. "I'm not going to," he said, gruffly. Sam could feel the grin spread over his face. "I'm not..." started Dean, then stopped, as if talking about it was too hard. He took a deep breath and then tried again. "I can't imagine ever not wanting this," he said.

Sam thought he was probably grinning like a maniac, but he couldn't bring himself to care. He stroked Dean's wrist with the tips of his fingers. "Good," he said. "Me neither."

Dean looked at him then, and Sam saw a flash of wonder in his eyes, before he smirked and said, "Well, of course not. Once you've had Winchester, you never go back."

Sam rolled his eyes, but he couldn't wipe the grin off his face. "Same could be said to you," he pointed out.

Dean grimaced slightly, and Sam noted to himself that maybe it was too soon for incest jokes, but he didn't let go of Sam's hand until the waitress brought over their food. She didn't say anything, but Sam saw her grinning to herself as she walked away. When he looked back, Dean was watching him with his careful, focussed look again, but it was different now - less like he was worried Sam would disappear, and more as if he just couldn't imagine anywhere else he'd rather be looking. Sam grinned and stole one of his fries, thinking that maybe, just maybe, this was going to work out after all.


End file.
